Skies Alight
by ForestFireSong
Summary: It was that time of year again, for lovers and for friends. It didn't really matter how you celebrated it, just that it was impossible not to get into a festive mood with snow falling, people bundled against the cold, and skies alight with blinking lights. [multi-pairing Christmas fic] [CuCan, USUK, PruAus, LietPol, RoChu, DenNor, Giripan, SuFin, SeaLat, HongIce, Gerita, Spamano]
1. Lights

"Is it always so cold in Canada?" Carlos grumbled. It was a rhetorical question- and a stupid one, because Canada was cold every single day, even if the locals told you it was "mild". To a native of the hot, tropical Cuban island, anything mild to a Canadian felt frigid to Carlos.

Despite that, though, Matthew smiled slightly at his question and responded in his usual quiet manner, "It's December, so I don't know what you're expecting. Besides, now is a good skating season."

Carlos muttered something incoherent in response. The only time it wasn't good skating in Canada-at least where Matthew lived- was in the deep months of summer. He burrowed deeper into his thick jacket, jamming his hands into his pockets after pulling the scarf tighter around his neck. Back in Cuba, he'd never needed such thick clothing.

It wasn't as though Carlos hadn't considered how cold the weather would be when he moved to Canada. Leaving Cuba had been hard enough, in several ways, but he'd been willing to do to be with Matthew. However, he had moved in summer, when, while it had been very cool by his standards, still hadn't bed as cold as the God-forsaken winter he was experiencing at the moment.

"Hey, look, it's snowing." Matthew remarked, looking up over his glasses as the flakes drifting slowly down.

"That just means we'll have to get to the car quicker." Carlos replied, blinking away the snowflakes away and keeping his eyes resolutely ahead. They had been going Christmas shopping- this time for their extended families, since if they when they shopped for each other, they did it separately.

"Ah, come on." Matthew protested. "Snow isn't that bad." He remembered when Carlos had first visited and there'd been flurries of snow. It was funny and pretty cute to see Carlos, much larger than him in physical structure, in a state of almost childlike wonder at the snowfall.

Carlos didn't seem nearly as thrilled this time, and Matthew knew that it was just his aversion to cold weather. As far as he was concerned, it could be much colder, but them again, Canadian summers were equal to Cuban winters. Carlos seemed a little brightened, however, only commenting, "Well, as long as you're the one to drive in it."

Matthew only smiled and continued walking, stopping, however, when he noticed the enormous Christmas tree in the square. It stretched up into the sky, far above their heads, adorned with large gilded ornaments and bows. The glowing white lights were nearly outshone by the large, blinking star shining at the tip. It was pretty and festive, and even having seen such things before, Matthew was in awe. "Carlos, come look at this!"

Carlos looked up to see where Matthew was. For a moment his breath was taken away, and that had nothing to do with the cold air. Matthew looked absolutely beautiful there, standing lot up by the tree's glowing lights, all bundled up with snowflakes swirling around his face and catching in his hair.

And he was smiling; it wasn't that Matthew didn't usually smile, but it was rare he would ever have a grin as large as he did. It was then Carlos remembered why he'd moved. It was for Matthew and always been for the sweet, quiet, Canadian.

Yeah, it was like the Siberian tundra out in Canada. But Carlos figured that he could put up with that if it meant being with Matthew.

Walking over to join the Canadian by the large Christmas tree, Carlos inclined his head in agreement. "This is really beautiful."

"Isn't it…" Matthew agreed, casting the towering tree a last appreciative look before taking Carlos's arm. "Do you want to head back now?"

"Not if you want to stay out longer." Carlos replied, pressing into Matthew. Maybe he was just adapted to the cold weather by now, but Matthew was considerably warmer than Carlos himself felt.

"No...we can just go ice-skating tomorrow." From the look in Matthew's eyes, Carlos couldn't tell if he was joking or not. He just smiled with a "If you say so" and they continued to hold onto one another all the way home.

**A/N: Can we get a shout-out for ridiculously cheesy endings? Seriously, though, I live on holiday fluff and this fic is going to rampant with it.**

**The rest of the pairings will be (not in this order): USUK, PruAus, LietPol, RoChu, DenNor, Giripan, SuFin, HongIce, SeaLat, Spamano, and GerIta. I know this is by far not an original idea, but nonetheless, I'm going to have so much fun doing this :D**

**Tower by Luka really fits the mood, I think ^.^**

**There'll probably be another update today….**


	2. Snowbound

Kiku ran one hand over his eyes, which were still blurry with sleep. Stifling a yawn, he turned his attention back to the glowing TV in front of him. The weatherman was still talking, describing the sudden, abnormally large snowstorm that had hit Tokyo.

When Kiku had woken up that morning, white light had been streaming through the window. Disentangling himself from the blankets on the futon and Heracles, he had made his way over to the window to see the entire world outside coated in snow, the streets piled with it, and, in places where there wasn't snow, slick, shining ice. Kiku had been shocked- he'd never seen so much snow in Tokyo. The only place where he'd seen such large quantities had been in Sapporo, when he'd visited for Yuki Matsuri.

As he watched the weather report, it'd soon became apparent to Kiku that he wasn't going to be able to drive to work, his job at an electronics company. So there he was, sitting on the couch, a little surprised at the unexpected disruption of his usual routine.

Kiku was even more startled when he heard a rather sleepy, "Kiku?" and saw Heracles wandering into the room with a cat on his shoulder, accompanying the one he was holding and the one scampering around his feet, meowing for food. Normally Kiku was the one to wake up Heracles, (however many times he firmly told the Greek to learn to wake up himself or get an alarm clock, he really only seemed to be able to get out of bed if Kiku was there to nag him about it) but this morning, what with the snow, he'd completely forgotten.

"We are snowed in today, Heracles." Kiku informed his boyfriend, as he picked up one of the cats, a small silver one. While they did own several cats, Kiku noticed that Heracles seemed to pick them up everywhere. It was fortunate that they were both fond of cats, although Heracles was more so, considering that he ran a clinic.

"Oh...good." Heracles replied settling down on the couch and leaning over to kiss Kiku. Even though they were far past the just-kissing stage-although it'd taken quite awhile for Heracles to be less casual about it in public- Kiku still got a tingle every time Heracles kissed him. And, unfortunately, he still turned red every time as well.

Leaning into Heracles's warmth Kiku sighed slightly. "I'm sure I will be able to get some work done from home today. How about you, Heracles-kun?"

"I'll run the clinic from home." Heracles decided. "After all...if anyone needs me, I put the address on the door." He leaned his head against Kiku's, and the Japanese man felt soft brown curls brush his face.

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Only if you're part of the mafia. Are you part of the yakuza, Kiku?"

"No."

"Then we should be fine." Heracles closed his eyes and yawned. "Okay, I guess I'll go back to sleep now."

Half-wanting to move but mostly wanting to stay in the comfortable position forever, Kiku hesitantly asked, "Don't you want breakfast?"

Opening his bright green eyes slightly, Heracles shook his head. "It's too early for that. Aren't you tired too, Kiku?"

Remembering how late he'd stayed working the past few nights, and how little time he'd gotten to spend with Heracles lately, Kiku closed his eyes and murmured, "Yes, I suppose am."

When Kiku woke up again, he felt quite disoriented, as sleeping in the day usually does to you. Granted, it had been morning when he and Heracles had fallen asleep again, but waking up at noon was certainly not a normal thing to Kiku.

The second thing he noticed was that Heracles was gone. Instead, Kiku was curled up with a pillow, with a blanket wrapped around him. And he was still in the t-shirt (that was actually Heracles's) and shorts he'd fallen asleep in the night before. It had been so long since Kiku had had the day off he was unused to the feeling.

As the Japanese man rose from the couch to first change, and then find Heracles, he was surprised to smell something sweet cooking and hear, from the kitchen, soft singing.

Walking silently over to the kitchen, Kiku realized it was Heracles he'd heard singing. While Kiku didn't understand the words, he'd heard Heracles enough times to recognize them as Greek. Peeking his head into the kitchen, Kiku saw Heracles meandering around the kitchen holding a plate with golden brown pastries covering it. Roaming the kitchen were some cats, one of them with a Santa hat covering nearly its entire head.

"Ah, you're awake." Heracles turned around and smiled slightly. "Do you want some baklava?"

"Baklava...?" Kiku repeated, then suddenly remembered the Greek dessert they'd had once. "Oh, yes. Thank you." Kiku turned and settled down under the kotatsu they'd dragged out for the winter.

Heracles set the plate on top. Still curious, Kiku asked, "When did you make this?"

"Just now." Heracles replied simply. "But I made the sauce yesterday, so I could use it today."

"Ah." Kiku noticed that Heracles had procured two forks. The Greek had always preferred using forks over chopsticks, as was to be expected, and it would probably be easier to eat the baklava that way. "And what was that you were singing?"

"Oh, just kalanda." Heracles paused, then corrected himself. "I mean, carols that we used to sing back home..."

"Carols..." Kiku repeated, then looked down at the baklava, piecing things together and suddenly wondering if Heracles was homesick for Greece around Christmas. Feeling completely insensitive, Kiku became flustered. "Ah, Heracles-san, how could I be so thoughtless! I'm sorry, I know you must be wishing you were home right now, and so-"

"Kiku." The small Japanese man glanced up to look at Heracles, whose green eyes were gentle. "It doesn't really matter where I am, as long as I get to be with you."

"Ah-" That was every cliché in every yaoi manga Kiku had ever read. It was a cliché beyond cheesy- it was one of the clichés Kiku had always wanted to hear.

"Just eat the baklava." Heracles leaned back, smiling, and as Kiku raised the first honey-scented bite to his mouth, Heracles said, "Did I ever tell you about the time I jumped into a freezing cold lake on the Epiphany?"

Laughing, Kiku ate the baklava and replied, "No, I don't think I've heard that one yet."

**A/N: I need to write for Giripan more. These two are beyond adorable.**


	3. Confession

"Ahhhh." Feliciano sighed contentedly as he spun down the stairs- literally spinning, and miraculously avoiding falling and cracking his head open. "The food at school is good, but I think you make it even better, Antonio!"

Feliciano stopped spinning to avoid running into Antonio as the Spaniard walked past, bearing a plate of sugary churros. He smiled widely at Feliciano, his smile almost as bright as the sunlight streaming in from the windows.

"This is only breakfast, Feli." Antonio said, holding the plate like a waiter with one hand and raising the other to wag a finger at him. "Just wait till lunch!"

Feliciano let out a laugh and settled himself across from Lovino, who was reading the paper and trying exceptionally hard to look grumpy. Feliciano knew that he really wasn't though- even though he'd tried to hide it, when Antonio had arrived late last night- a Friday- his face had lit up almost as bright as their Christmas tree.

Antonio set down the plate of churros, and as Feliciano grabbed to eat one, the Spaniard put an arm around Lovino, who merely grunted, and began to sip his coffee. With a twinkle in his eye, Antonio spoke. "So, Feli, who's this Ludwig I've been hearing about?"

"Huh? Ludwig?" Feliciano set down his churro, a smile breaking out over his face while Lovino snorted and muttered in Italian at the very mention of Ludwig. "Have I not told you about him? He's my very best friend! We're roommates at boarding school and he's German with big muscles. Sometimes he's really strict and scary but honestly, he's a nice person! And-" Feliciano leaned forward conspiratorially. "-he's really handsome, too."

"Is that so?" Antonio continued to listen bemusedly to Feliciano chatter on about his friend before leaning down to whisper to Lovino. "You're right. He's completely infatuated."

"What did I tell you? Why he chooses Macho Potato, I don't know."

"Aw, come on Lovi. It's sweet!" Antonio grinned. "I want to meet this Ludwig, to see if he deserves our Feli. Speaking of which…" he turned to Feliciano, who was recounting something he'd done at boarding school and had apparently not noticed Antonio and Lovino's mini-conversation. "Feliciano, do you want to go outside and build snowmen today?"

"Sure!" Feliciano replied, smiling. "See, Lovino never wants to build snowmen with me! And now we have a lot of snow on the ground! So it'd be a waste not to!"

"Oh, Lovi can come with us." Antonio responded cheerfully. He plunked a hat topped with bobbles on Lovino's head, to which the Italian did nothing. Normally he'd at least have a swear word to utter, but he figured that while he could usually win against one Feli, he couldn't win against two.

**/ / /**

Frowning with concentration, Ludwig gripped the pen tighter as it hovered over the paper. He hadn't thought that expressing his feelings would be so hard. There were legions of great romantic poets from Germany, right? And Ludwig was at the top of the class in most of his studies. So writing something, whether it be a research paper or love letter, had to be simple.

Except it wasn't. For the past hour to two hours or so he'd been struggling with writing. Romance novels and books of poetry were strewn around Ludwig's normally orderly dorm room- at least on his side. Feli's side was a wreck as usual.

Ludwig was just picking up a book for more reference when his phone rang. He considered letting it ring, then saw that it was Gilbert, and, sighing, scooped up the phone.

"Hallo?"

"Hey, West!" Gilbert's voice, while only adding to the mounting headache Ludwig had been sustaining for the past hour, was familiar and in its own odd way, comforting.

"Yes, what is it Gilbert?"

Gilbert's familiar chortle came in clearly over the phone. "I just wanted to see how my little brother was doing! You haven't called in awhile, you know."

"Well, Gilbert, it's Sunday. One more week and I'll be home for Christmas, and then we'll get to talk. I've been studying for finals, and now…" Ludwig trailed off, suddenly wondering if it was a good idea to confide in his brother that he'd been trying to express his feelings to the person who had practically become the center of his life (aside from Gilbert and his studies, and even then, he _did _take up a lot of time) ever since he'd found out they were roommates- Feliciano Vargas.

Right now the aforementioned Italian was home in Milan for the weekend- Feli had the luxury of being able to go home, while Ludwig usually only made the trip back to Germany for holidays. Feliciano actually usually spent the weekends with Ludwig, so he didn't get lonely or something like that, but apparently someone "very special" was coming over that particular weekend, so their room had remained empty.

Ludwig had certainly told Gilbert about Feliciano, but had left out the fact that he was completely in love with him. Somehow Gilbert had found out, even now exhibited in his devilish tone as he asked, "What? What're you doing right now, hm?"

"Just…" Ludwig knew that Gilbert would find out some way or another, so he broke down. "Fine, I'm writing a letter to Feliciano."

"Aha! I knew it!" Gilbert cackled. "So, you're finally deciding to confess, are you? That's good, you've waited long enough."

Massaging his temples, Ludwig sighed. "Yes, I suppose so. However, I'm going to do it at the opportune moment- Friday, when we're all leaving for the holidays. That way, if Feliciano...rejects me, the pain will be numbed by the time I see him again."

From Gilbert's tone of voice, Ludwig could visualize him shaking his head. "Feli? Like he'd reject you."

"What do you know about stuff like that? Romance novels are a very good source of information!"

"What…? Listen, West, I know more than you think, in fact, I know how you're feeling now…" Gilbert paused. "Wait, forget I said that. It can wait until you come home. Now, listen, the awesome me can tell you how to totally win him over-"

Ludiwg was slightly intrigued by Gilbert's first statement, but, glancing at the clock, decided he really needed to get to work. "Thanks, Gilbert, but I have a lot to do. I'll call you later." Before Gilbert could protest, Ludwig hung up. He knew that it was probably a little rude, but he really needed to find a way to get everything down perfectly, and there weren't that many hours in a day.

_Feli..._Ludwig closed his eyes and pictured the Italian's cheerful smile and bright eyes. He could practically hear his voice- Feli always sounded like he was singing, no matter what he said- calling for help out of whatever predicament he had gotten himself into.

Setting his pencil down on the paper, Ludwig began to write.

**/ / /**

Feli rolled a lump of snow on the ground, trying to create the head for his snowman. He'd already made the two parts for the body, huge lumps of snow stacked up nearby. Flakes continued to fall down in the virtually empty courtyard, making Feli satisfied that he'd have enough snow to finish the job.

However, he felt a frown come to his face as he remembered his last time building snowmen, in the front yard of his house with Antonio and Lovino. Lovino had gone inside to get another cup of coffee, and while he had done that, Antonio had stopped rolling and had regarded Feliciano with a strange look. "So Ludwig's your boyfriend, then?" he'd asked.

Immediately as Antonio had said that, Feliciano had stopped rolling, overcome with the same feeling he got every time he'd considered telling Ludwig his feelings. "No." he'd responded.

Antonio had looked puzzled. "Why? I mean, the way you talked about him, you like him, si?"

Feliciano could feel the snow, cold and wet through his mittens, in the empty courtyard just as he had then. "Of course I like him." he'd responded. _Liking him doesn't even cover it…_ "But I can't just go and tell him. What if he thinks it's weird? Ludwig's really shy, and…" just thinking about Ludwig made Feliciano shiver, but in a good way. The days spent together, seeing each other in some of their shared classes, laughing together, just getting to be around Ludwig...Feli didn't want to see it all change. He was content with waiting.

But what Antonio had told him had made him think- "Feli, you've got to tell him sometime." At first, Feli hadn't agreed. He'd thought he'd be able to contentedly hide the fact that he was in love with his best friend. But returning to school, Feliciano realized that probably wasn't going to be possible. He couldn't hide it forever. Feliciano was close to Ludwig, but not as close as he wanted to be. He got to talk to Ludwig all he wanted, but he didn't say all the words he wanted to. Simply, Feliciano wanted Ludwig. And that was never going to happen if he stayed silent.

Sighing, Feliciano stared at the gray sky from which snowflakes gently fell. Today was Friday, six days since he had spoken to Antonio. Tomorrow, both he and Ludwig would be packing up to go home for Christmas. For Feliciano, it simply meant traveling home to Milan. Ludwig, however, would have to travel across Switzerland and maybe Austria to get to Munich, where he lived with his brother.

And Feliciano still hadn't told him anything.

He could've always called him over break, of course, but Feliciano wanted his confession to be in person. When he'd first seen Ludwig after getting back to school, looking studious and incredibly handsome, telling him in his German-accented Italian that he had something to tell him and that he'd been very busy over the break, he'd wanted to tell him, if not only to finally get it out and kiss Ludwig then and there. But his confidence failed him, and Feliciano had went the rest of the week almost spitting it out, then drawing back at the last moment.

Lifting the head to the rotund ball of snow making up the second part of the snowman, Feliciano was about to place it down when he heard a voice. "Feliciano?"

The auburn-haired boy turned to see Ludwig standing before him, looking flustered and somewhat shy, and gripping a white envelope tightly.

Resting the head on the snowman's shoulders, Feli felt a wave of happiness just being with Ludwig. "Yes?"

"Well, um...ah…" Ludwig was stumbling over his words in a shy, cute manner for someone usually so put together and serious.

Watching Ludwig trying to find the right words, Feliciano felt anticipation build in his chest until suddenly he felt as though now was the perfect time. _Rather, it's now or never. Not exactly never, but it might as well be, and-_

"Ludwig-?"

"Feliciano-?"

Both stopped, having spoken simultaneously. Smiling a little, Feliciano spoke first. "You go first."

With his face burning a bright red, Ludwig held out the letter to Feliciano without saying a word. The Italian took it, curious, seeing his name written in Ludwig's neat, block-like letters on one side. As he opened it and began to read, Ludwig began to talk in a nervous ramble, his German accent becoming heavier and heavier the more he talked.

"I...I wanted to tell you how I feel Feli but I know I'm not very good with words so I decided to write it down again but now I can tell that was a stupid idea and I actually asked for Gilbert's help although what does he know about these things but I don't know much at all, either, and so I just hope you can understand what I'm saying even though-"

Feliciano stared down at the letter, a smile breaking across his face and feeling happier than he thought he had felt, ever. The letter Ludwig had written him sounded like something out of a romance novel, and knowing Ludwig it probably was, but Feliciano found it completely romantic. "Ti amo Ludwig!"

Ludwig stopped midsentence. "Eh-what?"

"I love you, Ludwig, ich liebe dich. You said it so much prettier, but sometimes you don't need so many words. Sometimes two or three work just fine."

Ludwig still looked so completely flustered that Feliciano began smiling, then began laughing, and then was hugging Ludwig around the neck. Whispering into his ear, Feliciano said, "You said you wanted me to understand what you were saying in your letter...well, do you understand what _I'm _saying?"

Feliciano could feel how warm Ludwig's face was; the German man paused for a moment before speaking. "Yes, I do."

Feliciano laughed. "Good." and then pulled Ludwig down for a kiss, the kiss he'd waited for for so long, the kiss that even with nervous, inexperienced Ludwig was better than any he'd shared with girls before.

When they broke apart, Feliciano studied Ludwig. He'd seen him serious or stressed or angry and certainly had fun with him when he was flustered, but Ludwig always looked best when he was smiling.

**A/N: Just to clarify, the first part from Feli's POV takes place on Saturday, Ludwig's part on Sunday, and the final part on the Friday afterwards. Sorry for any confusion ^.^**

**So there you have it! My longest piece so far and it's GerIta (as well as having some Spamano).**

**This is also a Christmas present for all my online and IRL friends, specifically the ones who like Hetalia. Love you guys! :D**

**R&R, I hope you enjoyed! **


	4. Cookies

Lovino pushed open the door to the house with one hand, balancing the bag of presents he was holding in the other. He could hear footsteps coming across the shiny wooden floor and, shutting the door, put his hand out to stop the oncoming Spaniard. "Stay away, _stupido_, there might be something for you in here. You can wait until Epiphany!" _He'll probably put out his shoes beforehand_. Lovino thought. That was something he hadn't done since he was a kid, but knowing Antonio he'd probably do it.

Antonio waited for Lovino to finish setting down his bags before walking over and embracing him. Lovino was convinced that Feliciano and Antonio were trying to double his "hug quota"- not a term Lovino would've ever used himself, but something he had legitimately heard Feliciano use once.

Lovino felt heat rise to his face. Still, he gave Antonio a quick squeeze- getting extra hugs wasn't all bad, after all. However, stepping back, the Italian man narrowed his eyes. "_Merda_, Antonio, what are you wearing?"

It wasn't so much the tacky Christmas sweater as it was the oven mitts and apron. Ever since Antonio had arrived at Lovino and Feliciano's house, he'd been cooking nonstop, even though Lovino told him not to. (Secretly, he didn't mind. Feliciano could be a culinary genius, but pasta for two weeks straight could be a lot. And Antonio was amazing at cooking.)

Nonetheless, Antonio had never put on the apron before, and only wore the oven mitts when he was using them for their intended purpose.

With a sigh, Lovino quipped. "Let me guess. 'Don we now our gay apparel?'"

"Loviiii." Antonio wailed. "Don't be like that! I thought that we could make cookies today!"

"Cookies?" Lovino repeated incredulously. "I'm not making cookies! _Merda_, I'm not having another repeat of the caroling incident. I already built snowmen with you!"

Antonio pouted childishly. "I don't know why you disappeared then. You have a lovely voice, Lovino! You've showed me, when we-"

"Okay, that's enough." Lovino said, blushing again. "I didn't disappear, I went to get coffee." _And had a very awkward 20 minutes in a coffee shop with Ludwig_, he thought silently.

"If you say so." Antonio replied, brushing his brown curls back from his forehead. "Please, Lovi? I know you can do this, you're an excellent chef! It'll be fun, _si_?"

Lovino had to admit to himself that making cookies did sound good- better than caroling, at least. And looking at Antonio's hopeful green eyes, he found that he couldn't say now. That's how it usually was. Lovino would scoff or roll his eyes at Antonio's antics, but in the end, he loved him after all, and having Antonio's smile to come home to from work for the past few days had brightened even the worst of days. Of course, now Lovino was off work, but it didn't change the fact that Antonio's smile, along with the rest of him, was the most dazzling thing that Lovino had ever seen.

"All right then." sighed Lovino. Antonio broke into another smile. "Yay! Thank you, Lovi!" As Antonio headed off to the kitchen, Lovino following, the Italian man realized that whenever he thought about Antonio, he found himself saying all the smooth, profound things the actors say in movies, but whenever he tried to voice them to Antonio, he found himself stumbling over his words and unable to say the right thing. It was an annoying habit of his. An unfortunate one.

"Here you go!" Antonio presented Lovino with an apron as they entered the wide, sunny kitchen. It needed to spacious and fairly high tech, as both Vargas brothers spent a good amount of time there- and now Antonio too.

Lovino glanced down at the apron and, against his will, felt a smile spreading across his face, the one only Antonio could draw out. The apron had what appeared to be hand-sewn green reindeer. "_Che diavolo_? Green reindeer?"

"Uh, first year Home Ec." Lovino looked up to see Antonio looking slightly embarrassed. "I can sew better now."

"I'm sure." Lovino replied, wondering what exactly Antonio had packed his suitcase that included his first Home Ec. apron, and, as Lovino soon discovered, cookie cutters too. He'd come to stay the entire break, sure; but was there such a thing as too prepared?

Putting on the apron, (and stifling a smile) Lovino glanced around. "Where are Feliciano and Ludwig?" Lovino had finally decides to call the German by his first name, since he'd concluded he wasn't entirely bad- besides being serious, stuffy, freakily muscled and somehow having Feliciano be completely obsessed with him. Oh, and being German. Somehow the two idiots-that being Ludwig and Feliciano- had managed to confess to each other, and a few rapid-speed calls from Feliciano later, they'd had Ludwig with them for Christmas. Or at least half of it- he wasn't even going to be there for actual Christmas, wanting to go home to his brother or something.

Antonio looked up from where he was pulling supplies from the refrigerator. "Feliciano said he wanted to show Ludwig something in town, so they'll probably gone the afternoon."

"He'd better not try anything on Feliciano." Lovino muttered, washing his hands in preparation.

Antonio laughed. "Feliciano's more likely to try something! If Feli so much tries to hold Ludwig's hand, he turns bright red." Antonio leaned over to Lovino. "Just like you are now, Lovino! Red as a tomato. You're so cute!"

Lovino pushed away Antonio's hand, as he ran his hand through his hair with an almost dreamy look on his face. "S-shut up. We need to get to work."

"Right!" Antonio replied with a sudden resolute look on his face that almost made Lovino laugh. Food, the only thing Antonio needed to suddenly be serious. That, or alcohol. "Okay, so the cookie dough I made is over there, and the cookie cutters here, so we should..."

For the rest of the afternoon, Lovino felt a peaceful contentedness settle over him. He snarked Antonio's actions sometimes, he laughed at them others. Antonio flipped on music at one point and sang; he even grabbed Lovino over and danced with him in the kitchen. The kisses they shared tasted of chocolate.

It felt so normal, so familiar, that Lovino felt himself unable to stand the thought that Antonio would have to leave for Spain once he needed to get back to work. Both he and Feli would be gone, the latter to boarding school, and it almost hurt to anticipate the crushing loneliness, of life with Antonio visiting only in short bursts, otherwise unreachable all the way in Spain.

While Lovino was decorating one of the already baked cookies, Antonio came to sit down across from him. There was a bit of flour dusting one cheek, so Lovino reached over to brush it off.

When Antonio spoke again, his voice quieter than usual. "_Gracias,_ Lovino."

Lovino took a deep breath, feeling as though the opportune moment had arrived. "Antonio?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you can stay longer?"

Antonio cocked his head, looking like a confused puppy. "What do you mean, _mi amor_?"

"I mean..." Lovino already felt the "smooth-and-cool-facade" crumbling like a sand castle swept away by the waves. "What I mean is, this actually turned out to be pretty fun and I'm glad we got to do it. But it's just that...I just want to..." Lovino bit his lip in frustration.

Antonio leaned forward until they were nose to nose, green eyes matching hazel ones. "Do you want me to stay?"

"...yes."

Antonio smiled, not a wide grin like usual, but this time, a gentler one. "I want to stay too, Lovino. I think that the time we get together is far too short. So if you want me to stay..." Lovino felt himself nodding dumbly at the comment. "...then I'll find some way to stay. Wouldn't it be nice to always be like this, Lovino?"

"Wouldn't it." sighed Lovino in agreement.

Antonio nodded happily. "Don't worry, I'll never leave you alone. Even if it means moving to Italy!" Lovino was shaking his head fondly, opening his mouth to reply when he heard the front door slam and heard Feliciano's voice exclaim, "Hey, look at this, Ludwig! I wonder what's in this bag?"

"Crap-!" Lovino leaped up. "Feli, don't look at that!"

Antonio got up as well, laughing. "Come on Lovi, let's go avert a crisis." The Spaniard took his hand as they shared a smile, a smile Lovino knew only he would get, a smile reserved specially for Antonio.


	5. Mall Elves

There was the pervading smell of greasy food, the clamor of crowds hurrying to get their shopping done, blinking lights and elaborate store displays, and some children pointing out toys with excited shouts. The mall was exactly the place Xiang would've chosen to hang out in.

Except not that morning.

Xiang had been sleeping contentedly as he usually did, the time nearing somewhere around noon, when his older brother, Yao, had came knocking at his door, saying something about "wasting the day" and "taking Yong Soo and Mei to see Shen Lao Dan Ren". One of the only pluses about Yao moving his job to Russia was that Xiang no longer had to take his required morning classes in science and math, meaning that he could sleep in. Yao just didn't seem to get that sleep was precious to teenagers; he was up every morning at dawn to do exercises or cook breakfast.

But Yao always got his way (he wouldn't stop knocking until he did). So while he went off to work, the lanky fifteen year old was stuck with taking his twelve year old brother and nine year old sister to see Shen Lao Dan Ren. Or, as Xiang argued in his ongoing debate with Yao, Sing Daan You Lan, as he'd been taught. Or, as they called it in Russia, Father Frost- Santa Claus.

Xiang yawned slightly as they meandered through the mall. Yong Soo and Mei ran ahead, often stopping to look at the shop displays. Yong Soo was more interested in the robot models in the front window of a children's store, though, while Mei dragged him off to look at hair ribbons and the like.

Glancing down at his phone, Xiang decided a new phone was all he really needed as a gift. It was cracked from a small incident with fireworks- not the actual fireworks themselves causing the crack, just Yao's flailing arms when he'd heard the explosion. It was rather disappointing- Xiang would've liked to get a picture of his older brother like that, but, as mentioned, his phone had been the one Yao had knocked off the table.

"Xiang!" The dark-haired teenager looked over to see Mei tugging on his sleeve. "Shen Lan Dao Ren is down there." He turned to see Yong Soo running down the escalator, clearing not understanding its purpose.

"Let's go then." Taking Mei's hand-although he really should've been holding onto Yong Soo- Xiang got onto the escalator.

He was expecting the process to see Santa Claus to be a fairly short one, but that was all shattered when he spotted the long line of children chattering, the queue culminating in a elaborately-decorated "Santa's Workshop". It was a pretty amazing sight, as Xiang couldn't remember seeing anything like it back in China, but the line took away some of the dazzle.

Quickly slipping in line next to Yong Soo, whose speediness had paid off slightly, Xiang let Mei and Yong Soo talk amongst themselves and glanced around. Nothing of much interest came to his eye until he stopped on a person standing just a few paces ahead of them.

He didn't appear to be waiting in line; rather, he seemed to be helping the whole operation. When the person turned his head slightly, Xiang felt his heart leap in his chest (although his face certainly didn't reflect it).

For one, the guy was his age. Most people there were parents and their kids. Second, his hair was silver. Literally silver. Xiang couldn't tell if it was dye or natural, but it was pretty cool looking. And the guy himself was just _pretty- _he was slightly feminine looking, but his hair was tousled and he had a mysterious air around him. Simply, the guy was attractive. As they moved closer, Xiang noticed that he had violet eyes, and he became even more fascinated.

Finally, the line stopped right by the boy, and Xiang took a glance at what he was wearing. While Xiang usually tried to stay emotionless, he couldn't stop chortling slightly at the strange get-up the guy was wearing- an elf, Xiang guessed. He even had the curled shoes. Without thinking about it, the teenager raised his phone and snapped a picture.

The silver-haired boy noticed him doing so and immediately blushed red. The scene was kind of cute. "H-hey!" he exclaimed, glaring at Xiang.

_Well, now I have a chance to talk to him. _"Privet." Xiang decided to use Russian for first encounters now that they were living in said country.

The boy looked at him strangely, before responding in a stiffly worded "Privet".

The accent was Xiang's first clue. Forgetting Russian and momentarily slipping into Mandarin, he spoke with a hint of surprise, "You're not Russian."

"Excuse me?"

For a moment Xiang felt legitimate panic in his mind. He could continue speaking Russian, assuming this boy knew some, although his Russian sucked. Clearly Mandarin wasn't an option, Racking his brain, Xiang tried his last hope. "I'm sorry, but you are not Russian, are you?" English.

To Xiang's immense relief, the silver haired boy seemed to understand and considerably relaxed. "No, I'm not. I'm from Iceland." Seemingly self-conscious with his accent, he continued on hurriedly. "You aren't either, are you?"

"No. Hong Kong. Spent a lot of time in China, too." Xiang replied. The silver-haired boy nodded, seeming to understand, before suddenly getting red in the face again. "W-why did you take my picture?" he asked, sounding flustered.

Xiang felt heat rise to his face too, trying to figure out how to answer. Was it indecent to tell someone that they were gorgeous enough for someone else to feel the compulsive need to take their picture? Because that was essentially the truth. Trying to find some convincing way to make it sound like the Icelandic boy's costume was _so _intriguing he needed to take a picture of it, Xiang felt Yong Soo and Mei pulling on him. "It's time to see him!" Yong Soo shouted. Xiang couldn't understand why a twelve year old boy was so excited to see Santa Claus, but then again, it was Yong Soo.

In his opinion, the elves were much more interesting.

However, as Xiang glanced back at the silver-haired Icelandic boy, he saw he was still waiting for a response. Smiling a little to himself, Xiang lifted his phone and took another photo.

**/ / /**

Waking up early the second day in a row had been hard on Xiang. Really, it felt as though he was breaking some sacred law. But this time, it was to see the Icelandic kid again- assuming he was still working at the mall. Some part of Xiang acknowledged that going back there to find him was probably some form of stalking, but the other part didn't really care.

When Xiang arrived at the mall, the first place he headed was the glittering Santa's workshop. However to his (unseeable) dismay, there was no silver-haired, eleven-clad Icelandic boy working there. Considering it a defeat, Xiang redirected himself to the food court, wondering why he had woken up so early.

However, Xiang happened to glance over the people milling around, eating various, totally nutritious foods of a vast cultural diversity. In doing so, he saw happened to notice the telltale silver hair.

Heading over to the table with two chairs and only one person, Xiang pulled out his phone. While the Icelandic boy was still occupied with the steaming cup of coffee in front of him, Xiang took another picture.

As he did so, the boy's head jerked up, and he stared at Xiang with shock and some indignation. "It's you!" He exclaimed, thankfully in English. "Why do you keep taking my picture?"

Xiang blinked. He wasn't sure what you did in such circumstances. Instead of getting himself into the same tongue-tied situation as he had the day before, he decided to be honest. "Well, you're really attractive." Xiang replied in his customary monotone.

The boy's mouth dropped open as a blush spread across his face. Xiang pulled out a chair and sat across from him. "So, is your hair like, natural, or what?" Having never been on a date, or ever really interacted with someone he'd found attractive, Xiang thought he was doing exceptionally well.

The boy snapped his mouth shut, avoiding Xiang's eye and regarding him warily. "Yes," he replied hesitantly.

"Cool." Xiang responded. He wondered if the boy was lying. Was hair like that even possible naturally? But there were more pressing matters. "What's your name?"

"Are you stalking me or something?"

Xiang stared at him. "Only since today."

That was when something unexpected happened. The Icelandic boy laughed. Xiang could only keep staring, feeling his face get hot and his voice die in his throat. He was really cute looking when he laughed.

"My name's Emil." Xiang looked up to see the boy smiling, apparently now more relaxed. "What's yours?"

Xiang had to clear his throat, trying not to stare anymore. "Xiang."

"Are you really stalking me?"

"Depends on what you consider stalking. I wanted to see you again, so I looked for you at Santa's workshop. Where's your costume?"

Emil looked uncomfortable. "I'm not on my shift right now. Which is good. I hate my costume."

"I like it."

Emil stared at Xiang. Xiang stared back. It was true. The costume was cool. Xiang kind of wanted to try it himself.

Rising from his seat, Emil checked his watch. "I think I have to go now. My shift's starting again." Xiang nodded, slightly disappointed.

Emil began to pull on his jacket and walk away. However, he stopped momentarily and looked back at Xiang. Turning red and seeming to consider his words carefully, he finally said, "Will you come back tomorrow?"

A smile and a nod was all he needed.

**/ / /**

"Yes, I'll make sure Santa remembers what you told him." Emil responded seriously to the young boy he was kneeling eye-to-eye with. "Don't worry." Seeing the boy's mother making the motions to leave, he straightened up and nodded at them. "Thanks for coming."

Watching the mother and son walk away, Emil sighed. The job wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the stupid outfit. He didn't know how Xiang could like it.

_Speaking of which..._ Emil glanced up to the second floor of the mall. Xiang was leaning over the rail, chewing bubblegum with his usual emotionless stare. The dark-haired boy had arrived only a few minutes earlier, and was now waiting for Emil to finish his shift.

Ever since Xiang had snapped his picture while in line waiting for Santa, and then sought him out the next day, a friendship had started up between the two. Nearly every day after that Xiang had come during Emil's shift, and the two of them would get coffee from the food court or simply walked around the mall.

Besides his obsession with taking his picture, Emil liked Xiang. Quite a lot, actually. He had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor, somewhat similar to his own. He also had a similarly protective older brother, and while Emil's family was smaller, it was no less dysfunctional than Emil's. And Xiang was just plain interesting. Emil couldn't fathom why he wanted to spend so much time with him. Ever since he'd gone to Russia for school, Emil hadn't made many friends, and the person he talked to the most was his suspiciously-gangster like puffin.

That was why Emil took some pictures of Xiang, to send to his completely overprotective older brother Lukas. Ever since Emil went to boarding school, Lukas was always texting him to make sure he was doing okay-and, often asking him if he'd made any friends.

But sending Lukas Xiang's picture had rather backfired, as Lukas had sent him a stern message warning him not to "do anything" with Xiang, his own boyfriend Mathias chiming in with an obnoxious, "I can't believe Emil's all grown up and has a boyfriend already!"

Even if Emil had slightly more pictures of Xiang on his phone than he should've (technically making his judgment of Xiang hypocritical) and looked at them on his photo roll a little too often, and had even discreetly bought a panda ornament for him, that didn't mean that he was his boyfriend. While Emil had discovered that Xiang wasn't nearly as cryptic as he appeared, he still didn't know what was going on in his head most of the time. Emil was pretty sure he would've noticed if Xiang had feelings for him. (He wasn't as oblivious as Mathias was, after all). No matter what Emil felt, that was the problem with relationships- they had to be reciprocal.

Emil pondered on that as he changed in the mall's bathroom before meeting Xiang. It was the 21st- a Saturday. He'd be going home to Lukas and Mathias on Monday. He'd been planning on giving Xiang his gift that day- at least then he'd see what the Asian boy thought of his rather deep-seated crush sprung from a week and a half or so of meetings.

Exiting the restroom, Emil headed over to Xiang, who had been absorbed with his phone but looked up as Emil approached. Somehow Xiang looked simultaneously as though he had just rolled out of bed, yet spent hours getting his long hair to fall just right. Although Xiang probably did just choose the first article of clothing he saw. For someone who displayed such an interest in fashion, his taste level was questionable.

"Hey, Emil." Xiang said when Emil came. "Do you happen to know where they sell fireworks around here?"

"No," Emil replied. If he had, fireworks probably would've been what he'd gotten Xiang. While he didn't particularly want to be responsible for another family story where Xiang blew up something, again, Xiang's fascination with fireworks coupled with the amusing images it conjured seemed to Emil a perfect gift.

As the two began to walk, not really with any direction but just simply strolling around the mall, Emil decided that he should probably give Xiang the panda ornament. Procuring it from the same bag he kept his mall clothes in, he presented the small wrapped box to Xiang without a word.

As Xiang opened it, the slightest traces of curiosity on his face, he began to smile. "Hey, I got you a gift too." he said. "I think we got it at the same store."

Emil gestured at a store on the first floor, while Xiang handed him his own wrapped gift. "That one?"

"Yeah. We were probably there after the same time."

Emil stared at the small puffin ornament in his hand, beginning to laugh. "I think so." And then, looking back to Xiang, Emil decided, even though he wasn't usually so impulsive, now was probably the best time.

So, dropping the bag holding his work clothes-but still clutching the puffin ornament-Emil reached forward and pulled Xiang into a kiss. It was actually his first kiss and Emil never would've thought he'd be the one to initiate it (as said, he wasn't usually so impulsive) but he'd noticed that he was usually different around Xiang.

Xiang didn't pull away, the two only breaking apart for need for air. Even though Emil knew he was blushing, he was satisfied that Xiang was too. He took pride in making the usually cool teen flustered.

"Merry Christmas. I really like you." Emil said simply, as if his earlier display of affection wasn't plain enough.

"...I do, too..." Xiang spoke softly, looking embarrassed as he ran a hand through his hair. However, he was smiling, and he gestured for Emil to join him. Putting an arm around Emil, he held up his phone. "We've got lots of pictures of each other, but none with us together."

"What?" Emil suddenly felt even more embarrassed. "I...I don't have pictures of you!"

Xiang smirked. "You're not as stealthy as you think."

Emil conceded, grumbling to himself. He put his arm around Xiang as well, and the dark-haired teen took the picture, although rather than smiling at the camera, they were really more smiling at each other.

**A/N: So, I'm not too sure about this one...but whatever. I love HongIce and I kind of really loved writing this one. I don't know why I ship it, but I _ship_ it.** **Hope you enjoy, R&R!**


	6. Holiday Party

Roderich nodded politely at the person across from him, paying rapt attention to what the other was saying but responding little himself. He sipped slightly at the punch in his hand. It tasted a little strange. Come to think of it, he'd seen Elizabeta lingering around the punch bowl earlier, looking guilty. _Could she have…?_

Almost as if Roderich's very thoughts had summoned her, the brunette appeared amongst the crowd, reaching for Roderich's sleeve and tugging it insistently. Nodding a cordial good-bye to the person he was speaking to, the Austrian maneuvered around the people crowding the elaborately decorated rented ball room and joined Elizabeta in a more secluded area.

Elizabeta had been one of the first friends Roderich had made after making the move from Vienna to Munich due to his work as composer. While her mannerisms were sometimes strange, and she would squeal at the most insignificant things, Roderich considered her one of his closest friends.

Now she was staring at him seriously, panting slightly, as though she had ran through the crowds to find him. It was an almost comical sight- Elizabeta was dressed up all beautiful in a slightly-above the knees green dress. He'd never seen her so dolled up before, even though she usually dressed stylishly.

"Roderich!" Elizabeta said seriously, brushing back a few strands of hair. "Guess who I saw walking in just now? Gilbert! He was actually dressed up and everything, and not at the club?"

"Really?" Roderich's interest was immediately piqued. As with Elizabeta, he'd never seen Gilbert dressed up either, in something other than jeans and t-shirts with obscure German bands on them.

And Roderich had seen a lot of Gilbert since he had moved to Munich. It seemed every time the Austrian went to a cafe, Gilbert would be there. And they'd somehow end up half-debating, half-arguing for hours. Or he'd go grocery shopping, and run into Gilbert in the aisles. Once Roderich even thought he'd seen Gilbert at one of his concerts.

Somehow, because of that, Gilbert had ended up as Roderich's other close friend. Even though the albino man was cocky and self-absorbed, not to mention obnoxious (some of the nicknames he'd come up with for Roderich were simply ridiculous). Even so, amid the teasing and bickering- Roderich only lived around the block from Gilbert- the Austrian had found that he actually enjoyed Gilbert's company, having an what could only be called an attraction to him.

Elizabeta nodded. "I managed to make it here before he spotted me, though." she smiled devilishly. "I should make sure he has some of the punch. How are you enjoying it, Roddy?"

Roderich felt himself blush at Elizabeta's use of one of the nicknames Gilbert had given him. Glancing down at the punch cup in his hand, Roderich looked back to Elizabeta. "Eliza, what did you do to the punch?"

"Just what they do in every teen movie." she tried to look innocent, but Roderich could see through her facade. And the confirmation was a bad thing. Mixing him, Gilbert, and alcohol was not a good thing, not after what had happened last time.

"Anyway, you should go see him!" Elizabeta immediately latched onto Roderich's arm. "Don't worry, I'll only beat him up a little this time."

Even though Roderich knew that he would eventually find himself sitting next to Gilbert at the end of the night, drinking the spiked punch and arguing before maybe kissing, like what had happened when he'd had alcohol last time, he still felt awkward as Elizabeta pulled him over without objections.

Some of his hesitations faded, though, when he saw Gilbert standing, looking as awkward as Roderich had felt minutes before. The Austrian suspected it was the suit he was wearing; Gilbert looked stiff and unused to clothing.

Although Roderich was blushing as he looked at him. After all this time, he couldn't believe that he'd never seen Gilbert Beilschmidt in a suit. He hadn't know what he was missing out on. Gilbert looked a little more mature, a little more refined- but he looked embarrassed, which was the best part.

The probably accounted for Gilbert's pale cheeks to turn a little pink when he saw Roderich and Elizabeta. He'd probably anticipated the teasing Elizabeta would turn upon him. However, he appeared to take it all in stride, yelling, "The awesome me is here, the party begins now!" as they approached.

However, Gilbert's gaze fell to Elizabeta gripping Roderich's arm, and something changed in his voice as he said, "How are the two lovebirds doing?"

Almost immediately Elizabeta dropped Roderich's arm, her face turning a bright red. "We're not-it's-"

"Really?" Gilbert replied. Suddenly he and Elizabeta were looking directly at each other, something changing in both of their eyes. Roderich could feel the tension mounting between them, topped off with Elizabeta's resolute "Yes".

Feeling rather awkward, Roderich attempted to change the subject by tentatively tugging on Gilbert's sleeve. "Gilbert, I didn't even know you owned a suit." he said, half-joking, because he had seriously never considered the possibility.

Both Gilbert and Elizabeta appeared to relax once Roderich said that, and Gilbert gave Roderich one his usual smirks, which made Roderich's heart stop, something he tried really hard to hide. "Of course I have a suit, I'm awesome. And if I didn't, I could've borrowed one of your eight hundred." The talk like that continued on, playful banter in a high-ceilinged ballroom, all aglow with luminous chandeliers and candles.

As the night wore on, with Gilbert so close to him, it kept coming back to Roderich. It had only been one drink at first. Unfortunately, while Gilbert could hold his liquor, Roderich couldn't. He'd woken up and remembered- being held by Gilbert, the feeling of the albino's lips on his. And he'd only wanted more.

But Gilbert never mentioned it. Roderich thought he'd forgotten. But it seemed implausible. Gilbert had been thinking straight, Roderich hadn't. Roderich knew he would've remembered. So he told himself never to do it again.

Then he'd slipped up, and suddenly Roderich woke up with similar memories and similar feelings and similar fears. Gilbert never said a word. Roderich couldn't fathom why. Did it mean nothing to him? Was it simply something that Gilbert enjoyed while it lasted, but didn't give a second thought?

It wasn't to Roderich. He certainly thought about it. And even while he wouldn't admit it to himself, he had completely fallen for his obnoxious albino quasi-neighbor. He didn't need to admit it though- memories didn't lie.

And with every touch, every word, by the time Gilbert asked Elizabeta with a rather serious face if she wanted to dance, Roderich had been so plagued by memories he thought he was going to be sick.

The way Elizabeta gripped Gilbert's hand and shoulder it feel as though she was about to hurl him into a wall. In actuality, Gilbert would've preferred a fight with her rather than a dance. Gilbert wasn't one for the strict, formal dances- he only knew how to dance because Roderich had taught him. From Elizabeta's stiffness, he could feel that she was unused to dancing as well. He'd only asked her to dance because of the way she'd been looking at him all night, as though she had something to say.

While the rest of the dancers gave Gilbert and Elizabeta a wide berth- as they danced with a fierce, almost violent intensity- Elizabeta finally spoke. Gilbert almost didn't catch what she said, so focused was he on getting the steps of the dance right. "You love him, don't you?"

It was a simple question; no name was mentioned. But as soon as Gilbert heard it, Roderich's face came to mind. He tried to form words of denial, but nothing came out. Because from the look on Elizabeta's face, he knew she wouldn't believe him.

Ever since Gilbert had met Roderich, just uprooted from Vienna, he had been equally infuriated and enchanted by him. He was uptight and pompous, but the more they talked, and the more time they spent together, Gilbert found that he understood Roderich more, and, as cliché as he found the sappy notion, fell in love with him more. It had especially hit home when his little brother, possibly the most unromantic person alive, had called talking about the confession he'd made to his Italian boyfriend. There was no way Gilbert was going to allow Ludwig to out-awesome him in love- part of the reason he'd gone to the party. There were still some problems, though.

"That's what I thought." Elizabeta replied. Her green eyes were mostly unfathomable, but she met Gilbert's gaze evenly. "Clearly he's infatuated with you, so..."

"What do you know?" Gilbert finally managed to find his voice.

Elizabeta raised an eyebrow. "I could cite several examples for you." She responded. "And I know that you've kissed him-"

"That's the problem!" Gilbert exclaimed, narrowly avoiding stepping on Elizabeta's foot. "That's the problem, no matter how much you want to take advantage of a drunk person, you don't. Believe me, Elizabeta, he was drunk and that's about the only time it would happen."

Elizabeta narrowed her eyes. "Are you not looking at Roderich _at all?"_ her voice was higher, and slightly louder, too. "You clearly have no idea!"

Gilbert looked down at Elizabeta. "You know, Eliza, I don't get you at all. The way you feel about Roderich is way more blatant than what you're describing, yet you seem to be egging me on to make a move on him."

"That's because I _am!"_ Elizabeta's green dress swished, and she stared up at Gilbert. "Listen, Gil, after this, just go ask Roderich to dance and _watch _the way he's acting. You may not see it, but he's completely in love with you." The music stopped, and Elizabeta took a deep breath. "What I feel doesn't matter. You may be an arschloch, but I trust you. A lot, actually. So-" her green eyes took on an excited gleam. "Just be sure to make it good." She then released Gilbert's hand and, after flipping her shiny brown hair over one shoulder, flounced away.

"Hey-Eliza-what-?" Gilbert tried futilely to call after her. When she didn't turn around, the albino sighed. "Totally un-awesome." Shaking his head, he thought about what she had said. Standing over near the orchestra was Roderich, looking in actuality quite stunning by the glow of the candles and rather spacey, as though mentally studying the music.

That was when Gilbert decided that maybe Elizabeta was right, and maybe he should trust her on this one. Just as the music started up again, he made his way over to Roderich and, extending his hand, asked, "Do you want to dance?"

Roderich looked up, looking surprised-or, rather, shocked. "I didn't think you would ask." he said. "I mean...that was an...interesting display you put on with Elizabeta."

Gilbert groaned. "Come on, Specs, can't you just accept the dance without insulting me?"

Roderich smiled slightly then. "All right, I accept." But as he took Gilbert's hand, the smile changed to an almost childish pout. "But don't call me that! All these nicknames have started to rub off on Elizabeta."

"All right." Gilbert grinned. "Does that mean I'm the only one allowed to call you that?"

Roderich shook his head slightly and began the dance. Gilbert noticed that Roderich just naturally led, making Gilbert feel slightly embarrassed. Dancing wasn't manly! It didn't matter who led!

As they danced, Gilbert tried to focus on the steps, although this dance was much smoother since at least _one_ of the dancers knew what they were doing. And for some reason it felt so natural, so comfortable just to hold Roderich's hand and stumble along to steps he thought he'd memorized months ago.

That was probably why Gilbert didn't even think anything of leaning forward and brushing Roderich's cheek with a kiss. It wasn't even on the lips, but Roderich dropped Gilbert's hand. Rather than looking surprised, though, he looked wary, giving Gilbert a questionable look.

Shrugging in response, and trying to act casual even though his heart was thumping, Gilbert said, "Just wanted to say I love you."

That did manage to shock Roderich. As the other couples parted around them, he said tentatively, "You've never said that before."

Gilbert shrugged again. "Well, it's true."

Roderich smiled. "Well,then...the same goes for me. I love you." There were thousands of things Gilbert wanted to say, and he could tell that Roderich had some to say as well; but those could all be said later. Instead, Roderich took Gilbert's hand and they resumed their dance.

**A/N: Prussia/Austria/Hungary is one of my guilty pleasures, I'll admit. This may have been a bit more that than PruAus, sorry…^^' **

**I probably won't finish this by Christmas, so I just wanted to say thank you and Merry Christmas/happy holidays to every person who read, followed, favorited, etc. You guys are awesome! :D**


	7. Mistletoe

During the Christmas season Arthur was used to having the house decked out in over the top decorations that were usually quite tacky, all courtesy of Alfred. From the first Christmas they'd shared together, and during the many more they'd experience over the years, the American had displayed his love of Christmas decorations, and Arthur had eventually learned to adapt.

However, this year, Arthur was beginning to notice an added decoration amongst the glittering baubles and alternating grinning Santa and snowmen- one he didn't think was Alfred's doing.

This year, Arthur's home had been overtaken by mistletoe.

Arthur didn't recognize it at first- he'd been reaching for the ingredients to make some of his spectacular scones, and had noticed a plant hanging down from the cabinet. It had taken him awhile to figure it out, but he finally realized that it was the most dreaded holiday plant of all- mistletoe. And he knew entirely whose fault it was. Who else would've thought of it than the Frenchman currently staying with them?

Now, Arthur was scouring the house for mistletoe and, to his horror, was starting to notice it everywhere. He stood under the doorway, staring at the mistletoe hanging down from it. Did he remove it? Or pray no one else noticed it? Or-

"Do you like my new addition?" Arthur spun around to see Francis behind him, staring at him and the mistletoe with a gleam in his eyes, looking smug and pleased with himself.

Arthur narrowed his eyes glaring at Francis. He'd stayed with them for Christmas a few times before (when he wasn't hanging around bars with his two insane best friends, although one of them seemed to have taken up residence in Italy and the other had actually managed to find himself a stable relationship) but never before had he done the mistletoe. To be honest, Arthur was surprised that he hadn't thought of it before.

At the moment, Arthur was really more annoyed than angry. He'd been rivals with Francis for so long that they mostly bickered for the sake of doing so, rather than out of any deep resentment, and the Frenchman had proved to be a reliable friend. Nonetheless, Arthur didn't feel bad about arguing with Francis over this one.

"Not at all, frog. I don't know where you've hidden all the mistletoe, but rest assured, I'll have it all pulled down soon enough." Arthur glanced up at the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling, and then back at Francis. "I-Including this one! Don't try anything!"

"Of course not, I won't try anything now." Francis replied, holding up his hands. "I'll give you time to try to find it all first." Then he smirked devilishly. "But after that, I'm not responsible. And if I catch Alfred under the mistletoe, well..."

"I don't think you want to try that." Arthur responded in a low voice. He remembered, on a rather drunken New Year's Eve, Francis had tried to flirt with Alfred, Arthur had punched him, a fight ensued, and they'd all gotten kicked out. Alfred didn't actually remember it, at least as far as Arthur could tell. He never was good with alcohol, but then again, neither was Arthur himself.

Francis shook his head, still smiling. "We'll see." He opened his mouth, appearing as though on the verge of saying something, then closed it and wrinkled his nose. "Arthur, mon cher, I think you need to get those scones you started earlier. Unfortunately, I don't think we'll be doing anything with them except dumping them in the trash."

"Why, you-" Arthur really didn't want to fight more with Francis, but his scones /were/ burning. _Bollocks! I knew that was a really good batch I made, too_. Arthur hurriedly took off to the kitchen, with Francis calling, "Please try not to burn down the house until Christmas Eve!"

"It's only two days away," Arthur muttered, taking the scones from the oven as they smoked and dumping the lot of the counter. "This house has survived much longer than that."

Arthur temporarily forgot about the mistletoe scattered around the house in his haste to salvage the ruined scones (like every other batch he'd ever made, there was nothing to salvage, much as he'd like to deny it). He only remembered when Alfred came through the door, back from doing some Christmas shopping, and Arthur went to help him, if only to stop him from knocking everything down trying to navigate his way around.

While taking a bag from Alfred's hand- one that the American had deemed "safe", as in not containing a gift for him- Arthur remembered again the mistletoe hanging above them, heard the Frenchman on the stairs laughing, and had promptly blushed bright red. Alfred apparently didn't notice anything, but Arthur continued to keep an eye out for mistletoe on their way to kitchen.

And that was when Arthur began to think, really think. Alfred was always kissing him. Not that Arthur ever objected, and they were far past the being-embarrassed-of-a-kiss stage, even though Arthur wasn't particularly a fan of the more public displays of affection. But it was more the fact that Arthur was just beginning to realize how unaffectionate he usually acted.

Excessive affection wasn't necessary, after all- Alfred should be perfectly aware of how much Arthur cared for him. But Arthur decided at that moment that he could use the holidays, the most joyful time of the year, and the mistletoe, to show how romantic he was. The opportunity was simply too good to pass up.

Even if it meant showing the frog that he approved of his plan.

**/ / /**

The first time Arthur kissed Alfred, he was passing him on the staircase, both of them heading to their last day of work. The Englishman had glanced up and noticed a sprig of mistletoe hung unceremoniously from the ceiling. Without much thought, he pulled Alfred into a kiss.

To his surprise, Alfred didn't react with surprise, only flashing Arthur one of those grins that made his heart beat faster before continuing on down the stairs.

In fact, that was his reaction every time Arthur kissed him out of the blue. In the kitchen, the living room, the porch- Francis had even somehow managed to get the blasted mistletoe into Arthur's car. Arthur was starting to suspect that Francis had told Alfred something and that was why he didn't question it at all.

Altogether, Arthur had to admit to himself that he didn't particularly mind Francis's idea. He glanced up at mistletoe hanging from the ceiling from where he sat on the couch, drinking a cup of tea mixed with whiskey, brown sugar, and honey. He'd decided to save drinking straight from the bottle for later in the evening, as it was only 6:00 or so, a tradition that his family had upheld every Christmas Eve he could remember. (Never once was the alcohol left untouched at the Kirkland home during Christmas, although it was mostly because without drinks, family gatherings would've been completely unbearable).

Arthur looked up as Alfred and Francis came in from the kitchen. That evening, they had told him that under no circumstances was he allowed in the kitchen, as they wanted the house to survive another year. Arthur wasn't sure why he was banned and Alfred wasn't- the burgers that he thrived on were disgusting- but he suspected that it was mainly because Alfred was completely eager to help out and Francis wanted someone to do the menial tasks for him.

Alfred flung himself onto the couch beside Arthur, holding a mug of hot chocolate like a little kid. He glanced up, following Arthur's line of vision, and his eyes lit up when he noticed the mistletoe. "Hey, Arthur, look at that! It's mistletoe! I guess that means we've got to kiss now!"

Arthur slowly set down his cup of tea on a coaster on the nearest table. All he could do was stare at Alfred, feeling actually quite annoyed, but more than anything, astounded. _Alfred's not actually serious, right? _

"Alfred." Arthur said in a low voice. "There's mistletoe all around the house."

Alfred looked bewildered. "There is? Where?" He glanced around the room, suddenly spotting it on the mantel and the doorway. "Wow, I guess I never noticed!"

The obliviousness was almost getting too much to handle. When Arthur had first met Alfred, it had been a good thing, because he hadn't noticed right away how Arthur felt. But after they'd started dating, it had reached frustrating peaks. Like now. "Why do you think I've been kissing you so much lately?"

"Well…" Alfred's blue eyes were still rather confused, and slightly hurt. "I don't know, maybe 'cause you love me?"

Arthur suddenly felt everything backfire; he wanted to facepalm himself. "Ah…" Searching for the right thing to say, Arthur decided to just go with the truth. "Well, it was about that, too."

"So…does that mean that we still get to kiss?"

A small smile spread across Arthur's face. "We are under the mistletoe, after all." He had leaned forward so that they were almost nose-to-nose.

"Ahem."

Both of them turned to see Francis standing there, holding his own mug, while giving Arthur smug glances and looking rather amused at the whole scene. Arthur was suddenly reminded of talking to Francis in the staircase, and slowly looked from Francis to Alfred back to the mistletoe.

Arthur promptly ripped the mistletoe down from the ceiling, and then, before Alfred or Francis could stop him, left the room and proceeded to scour the house for the rest of it. He'd had quite enough of it for one holiday.

**A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! :D **

**This was originally supposed to be a Christmas fic…there'll still be a Christmas-themed chapter here, but as Christmas is already past, the rest will probably be just winter/New Year-themed. **

**Yes, I do ship FrUs, thanks for asking. **

**This ending was kind of…ah, I don't know. Still, I hope everyone enjoys! ^.^ **


	8. Christmas Tree

8:00, first cup of coffee.

Lukas sipped his coffee, flipping over the newspaper and looking out the window. Snowflakes stuck to the glass already covered, on the outside, with a thin layer of ice. At this time of the morning, the house was completely quiet. Mathias barely moved before 11 over the break, and there will still a few days before they had to pick up Emil from boarding school.

The silence was well-appreciated by Lukas. He'd always enjoyed just watching the snow fall outside, or just talking to the many trolls and fairies he saw- that were _not _simply his imagination, or an aftereffect of some sort of drug, like Mathias liked to tell him. He'd found a perfectly sane Englishman over the Internet who had the same kind of friends, so that showed the idiotic Dane.

The coffee cup Lukas was holding was still warm, even though he'd drank almost all the coffee. He rose from the chair, deciding he should probably get all the ornaments, especially the _Julekurver. _After all, the night before, Mathias had said that he was going to go out and get the Christmas tree.

10:00, second cup of coffee.

Mathias came tumbling down the stairs surprisingly early. Lukas looked up as he heard footsteps pounding down the stairs, and honestly felt slightly shocked at the fact that the Dane was already dressed.

"Morning, Lukas!" Mathias called, leaning over and pulling Lukas into a kiss. When they broke, Lukas pulled back and examined his boyfriend skeptically. "I didn't know getting a Christmas tree was such a big occasion. I don't think I've ever seen you dressed before ten on a day you didn't have to work."

Mathias shrugged. "Don't be mean! And it _is _a big deal. I'm going to find the biggest tree there is!"

"Please don't." All Lukas could think of was last Christmas- or maybe it was several Christmases ago?- when the tree could barely fit in the house, and, ala "Elf", an American movie Mathias seemed to love, Mathias had nearly cut the power trying to wrestle a star to the top of it.

Slinging on his long, dark coat, Mathias turned back to Lukas, holding his axe over his shoulder. (Lukas had only just noticed that he had it. It was a little odd, since Mathias usually kept it in the shed behind the house, but maybe it was a preemptive measure towards getting the Christmas tree. "You can still come with me, Lukas! It's not too late! It'd be really romantic" Mathias grinned, apparently trying to be romantic himself.

Lukas shook his head in disinterest. Cutting down a tree and loading it to the car would be an all day affair, mostly consisting of him watching Mathias swing the axe at the tree. He didn't particularly mind watching Mathias use his axe, but Lukas also didn't want to get hit and it was cold outside. Even with Norwegian blood. "I'm good."

"Fine." Mathias flashed another grin. "I'll be back later, and I'm gonna have the most awesome Christmas tree!"

Lukas simply pulled Mathias into a good-bye kiss. Then he'd probably need more coffee.

Noon, third cup of coffee.

The coffee mug emblazoned with the Norwegian flag (a hand-painted gift from Tino that he had made for everyone in their extended family for each of their nationalities- even a special one with the Icelandic flag for Emil, since he was half and half) sat in front of Lukas. He normally didn't make it past the second cup. For some reason he was a caffeine fiend that day. That much probably wasn't good for him. Then Lukas remembered that in college most students substituted coffee for sleep and by exam days, it ran in their bloodstream, so he probably wasn't that bad off.

His phone buzzed, signifying a text. Lukas glanced down at it. It was from Emil, giving him the details for his flight. Lukas noticed the dark-haired boy in the background and narrowed his eyes.

Xiang, as Emil had named him, was apparently Emil's new Asian boyfriend. Lukas knew this because every time he called him such, Emil vehemently denied it, probably with blushing on his end. It wasn't like Lukas didn't _want_ him to socialize, but this was taking it a little far. He'd have to have a talk with this _Xiang. _Not just anyone could date his little brother.

Snow was starting to pile on the windows. Lukas rose from his chair, deciding to go for a walk. And he'd probably have to shovel the driveway. It was usually Mathias's job, but it had now fallen to Lukas, and as much as he loathed to admit it, he was as lazy as Mathias was about these kinds of things.

Pulling on his coat, hat, gloves, and scarf, Lukas headed outside. The air was sharp and cold and bright with falling snowflakes, although the heavy clouds above him were varying shades of white and gray.

Almost immediately Lukas realized that shoveling the driveway would have no effect because the way things were progressing, snow would cover it almost immediately again. He didn't particularly like getting bundled up for nothing, though, so he decided to take a walk through the neighborhood.

At the moment everything looked nice covered in snow and ice, as befitting of the Christmas season. Lukas knew that snow was cold and would have to be shoveled, eventually, and then at some point it would turn to slush, but at the moment he was enjoying it. He could almost imagine Mathias begging him to do a snow angel or something like that.

As Lukas thought that, the wind began to whip up and snowflakes stung his eyes. Suddenly they were not light and fairy-like anymore, but larger flakes with fiercer intentions. Lukas has wandered considerably far away from his house, and even though he knew the way back, he also knew that he probably needed to get home soon, before the snow could get worse.

2:00, no coffee.

Lukas was right. The storm had gotten quite a lot worse, and he could hear the wind howling outside, and snowflakes hitting the windows. So far the electricity seemed fine, but Lukas made sure that there was plenty of firewood, just in case.

He glanced down at his phone, slightly worried. He'd expected a text from Mathias by that point, probably one enthusiastically declaring he'd "found the perfect tree!" There was nothing. He was probably occupied with cutting down said tree, but Lukas couldn't help but being slightly worried. Which was also ridiculous. Mathias was fine. Probably.

4:00, no coffee, but getting closer to the vodka bottle.

As Lukas had predicted, the storm only raged on outside the window. He'd only just realized that he'd completely skipped lunch, and so he went to make some seafood bisque. He, Mathias, and Emil were constantly eating fish. But eating it by himself made Lukas feel rather lonely.

The magical feeling snow was supposed to bring was gone. Of course, Lukas had lived with heavy snow all his life and knew after time you got sick and tired of it. Still, it was the holidays.

7:00, no coffee, no vodka (the only in the house was from Tino and his is _way_ too strong.)

It had been dark for several hours and even though Lukas had managed to stave off his worries for awhile, they were back in full force now. He'd assumed that, with the early start he'd gotten, he'd have gotten a tree in plenty of time. Maybe not. It was Mathias, after all.

It was quite annoying how the Dane always had Lukas so _worried _about him. He knew that was what happened when you fell in love, but still. Even when there was no reason for concern, some part of Lukas was always worried for Mathias. Despite all his teasing, Lukas knew Mathias was perfectly capable, but still, his recklessness was hard to ignore.

8:00. No coffee, no vodka, probably no seafood either.

Lukas had been curled up on the couch, reading a book and only half-focusing. Even though the house was heated, he'd started a fire anyway. Idly turning a page, his attention was jolted from the book when he heard the sound of the wind grow louder, along with the slamming of the door.

"Hey Lukas," Mathias's voice rang around the house. "It's-" he was interrupted by a sneeze, before continuing. "It's really snowing around there."

_You don't say. _Lukas rolled his eyes, but inside he felt a massive relief that Mathias was back. One the one hand, he _had_ spent most of the later half of the day worrying, but on the other, he was just relieved his boyfriend wasn't buried and freezing to death under piles of snow.

"Where were you?" Lukas got up from the couch and walked over to see Mathias, trying to work actual anger into his voice, but it not succeeding. Snow topped Mathias's hat and coated his clothes; he was shivering from the cold and Lukas spoke, he sneezed again. However, his smile was absolutely radiant and he seemed mostly unaffected.

"Where do you think I was? Oh man Lukas, you've got to see the tree. It's huge! It took so long to get down, and the snow was all piling up around me and I didn't think I'd be able to drive home but it was pretty awesome." Mathias turned away for a moment as he started to cough.

"And you got a cold along with it." Lukas responded in a monotone.

"Of course I didn't! I-" Even as Mathias tried to protest, Lukas ignored him. "Go sit on the couch Mathias, and take off all of those layers already. I already started a fire, just so you know. Did you even remember to bring anything to eat?"

"I need to bring in the tree!" Mathias objected as Lukas ushered him to the couch. "It's still on top of the car, someone could steal it, you know."

"Not in this weather." Lukas replied. "And people only steal the ones out on the curb. Just sit here. And for God's sake, get the blanket from under the couch."

Mathias complied, looking at Lukas strangely. The Norwegian returned his gaze. "What?"

"I don't know, since when were you so...caring?" Before Lukas could reply Mathias grinned rather dopily and added, "It's so cute, Lukas! Thanks!"

Lukas felt his cheeks burn. "I wasn't going to let you just sit there sick, you know. Even if they do say idiots don't catch colds."

"What? What do you mean by that, Lukas? Wait!"

Mathias's cries went unanswered as Lukas headed to the kitchen, wondering if there was anything left to eat in the house. He was afraid that if he stayed with Mathias any longer, he'd get as ridiculously sentimental as he was. Not that he minded Mathias's sappiness. But there was no use in letting him get a swollen head.

**A/N: I ship these two so much ok**

**I'm not sure how this turned out but who cares because this is my first DenNor and that's enough for me.**

**(I **_**will **_**finish this off before February, I promise. Christmas has come and went, I know.) **


	9. New Year's Eve

The red numbers of the clock remained the same, reading 11:35. The numbers had just changed, and now there were exactly 25 minutes until midnight. Berwald glanced over at the clock, more just to see Tino and Peter's intense expressions as they watched than anything.

Normally, Peter's bedtime fell as something around ten, occasionally nine if they could manage it. The ten year old always relished the special occasions when he got to stay up late, New Year's being one of them. Normally he'd fall asleep and Tino and Berwald would have to wake him when the fireworks started, but in the past two years he'd taken pride in being able to stay up late.

However enthusiastic Peter was for the fireworks, though, Tino matched his excitement. The two of them had been alternately checking the window and clock, waiting for the fireworks. Tino had already bundled Peter up against the cold, and just as the clock hit another number he skipped over to Berwald, about to get ready himself.

"Aren't you excited?" Tino asked Berwald. His violet eyes had a veritable shine and his blond bangs kept falling in his face. Tino was honestly too adorable, especially when he was as enthralled as a little kid by fireworks.

"Yeah..." Berwald nodded. Fireworks were a newer thing for Berwald-before he met Tino, New Year's celebrations had been relatively quieter back home. Well, when Mathias wasn't getting drunk. Then again, that had been most days. Regardless, Berwald really just enjoyed being with family more than the fireworks themselves, even though they _were_ amazing.

Tino nodded enthusiastically, his blond bangs falling into his face. He stretched up on his toes and kissed Berwald. "Make sure Peter doesn't run out before it's time!" he shouted over his shoulder as he ran up the stairs.

Berwald smiled to himself as he watched Tino go up the stairs. He had never kissed Tino and not been left with a smile afterward. It was the sort of sappy thing he told Mathias when he was drunk, that somehow Tino's perpetual smiling must've been contagious. And of course Mathias had laughed at him before Berwald passed out. But it was probably true.

The sound of feet pounding across the floorboards towards him caused Berwald to look up. Peter had run over to him and now beamed proudly. "Look!" he said, gesturing to himself and his abundant layers of clothing paired with a thick coat, scarf, gloves, snow boots- the works. "I got dressed myself this time! Papa didn't have to help me or anything!"

Berwald smiled slightly to convey that he was genuinely impressed. Most of the time either he or Tino had to help Peter get dressed, but what with the extremely cold temperatures they endured in the wintertime, he seemed to have gotten the hang of it.

Peter continued to chatter excitedly about the fireworks and the friends from the town he was going to meet there. Berwald could understand most of his enthusiasm- both Christmas and New Year's were celebrated with much bravado fairly close to each other, and everyone- especially kids like him- got worked up at that time of year.

There was the sound of clattering upstairs, followed by Tino yelling, "I'm all right!" and emerging from their bedroom ready to go. He hopped down the stairs and accompanied Berwald and Peter as they headed outside, ready to go.

As they crossed the threshold and the first blast of icy air smacked them in the face, Peter's gloved hand took Berwald's on his left and Tino's on his left. Their feet crunched through the snow as they headed down the streets, the pools of light thrown from streetlamps guiding their way.

The air was so cold, Berwald wondered if it could just freeze the moment, have it preserved forever. It was one of those moments when he could literally feel the contentment seeping through him. He could appreciate the good in most days, but this was one of the few where he felt though it was almost tangible, floating in the air just like the delicate snowflakes brushing their cheeks and hair.

Many people passed by, on their way to the fireworks exhibition, and Peter and Tino shouted out their greetings to those that they knew. Thankfully the night was a clear one- the moon heralded the way amongst stars in the deep blue sky.

When they reached the spot where the fireworks were due to be set off, Peter immediately found some of his friends and, yelling explanations as to where he would be, he let go of both of their hands and raced off to play until the fireworks came into the sky.

As the night air was exceptionally cold, Tino curled into Berwald, the latter doing the same as he pressed their bodies together. Even as they were both rather accustomed to the cold weather and well-dressed for the occasion, Berwald just liked being close to Tino and feeling the beating of his heart. "Y' got any idea f'r a r'solution?"

Tino looked up at Berwald's question, looking contemplative. The two of them had always done resolutions, even though most of the time they ended up forgotten by February. Tino usually took his pretty seriously, though.

"Hm...I don't know...I mean, there are so many things I could work on in the new year. I guess I've been doing pretty well at work, so I'd probably just want for things to stay the same...I guess it'd be nice to improve on cooking so I don't burn the kitchen down this time...and I probably should get to work on the garden although you need to spruce up the yard for Hana before that…" Tino laughed. "I don't really know."

"'m sure you'll figure somethin' out." Berwald responded, smiling slightly.

"Well, I'll have to, at least by midnight." Tino stared at the sky, his smile brightening slightly. "That's only in a few minutes though, I guess I didn't really think this through…"

Berwald was planning on responding when a sudden hush fell over the group of assembled people, all of them turning their gaze to the front. Berwald checked his watch, the hands reading 11:57. Every waited silently, anticipation falling over them, for the first of the fireworks to start.

Without any further ado, the first one exploded into the air, a shower of white, blue and yellow across the dark backdrop of the sky. The sparks fell through the air, fading away into the night. A cheer went up among all those gathered. Tino grabbed Berwald's hand, laughing slightly and looking completely transfixed by the fireworks.

Before Berwald had time to prep himself for the next explosion of sound, another fireworks display had been launched into the air, the starburst of rainbow colors causing more cheers and excitement. If anyone had been planning on sleeping, they certainly weren't going to appreciate the commotion. However, everyone in the town knew about the fireworks display- it was a professional event put on by the town, not some random thrill at 3 a.m.- so they probably didn't expect peace and quiet anyway.

"Hey, Berwald," Tino nudged him and Berwald glanced over, wiping his glasses as snowflakes were sticking and smudging the surface. "It's New Year's eve, we should kiss, shouldn't we?"

Glancing around, Berwald saw that most of the other couples in the town were looking at each other in anticipation of when the clock struck twelve and it turned to the next year. They had only about a minute left. Berwald nodded without saying anymore, even though he was smiling slightly.

Even with the noise of the fireworks and the the excited calls of people still running around, Berwald almost felt as though he could hear the hand of the clock move, which was when he grabbed Tino and pulled him into a kiss. He could feel Tino's hand in his hair, and, despite the snow and freezing air, heat rushing through his body.

When they finally broke, the fireworks illuminated the beam on Tino's face. "Happy new year!"

"Hey!"

Both Tino and Berwald turned to see Peter back from running around with his friends. "Does this mean I have to kiss someone too?" His face was red, possibly from the cold and exertion of running around.

Tino laughed and pulled Peter closer with one arm, and Berwald with the other. Overhead the sky glowed red, orange, yellow, and then white, like it was a blazing hearth, which did make sense with the sudden warmth in the atmosphere.

Leaning over, Tino planted a kiss on Peter's head. "Not yet."

**A/N: So on the plus side, I was out in the snow today so now I can write with extra realism!**

…**it's February in two days isn't it. Oh well. **


End file.
